Читать книгу Christmas Brides And Babies Collection - Rebecca Winters - Страница 35

Emergency

MAEVE LAY THERE with the weight of her son on her chest, feeling the little wriggles on the outside of her body instead of the inside as he shifted. Could smell the unmistakable scent of new babies, and blood, and almost taste the relief in the room.

Why were they all worried? She had this. She looked at Rayne, who was sinking into the chair beside the bed that Tara had pulled up for him, unnaturally pale. His hand was halfway to the baby and hung suspended in the air as if he didn’t know whether to touch or not.

‘He’s your son,’ she whispered. Wishing he would kiss her. As if he’d heard her, he half stood and leaned across and kissed her lips. His hand drifted down and he touched the downy cheek of their child.

‘Thank you. He’s amazing. You were incredible.’ He blinked a couple of times. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Buzzing,’ she said, and grinned at him, and he shook his head and sank back in the chair. Looked like Rayne had aged ten years, she thought to herself. Still, the years sat well on him.

She glanced at Tara, who was taking her blood pressure. Waited until she was finished and then caught her hand. ‘Thanks, Tara.’

Tara smiled mistily. ‘I’m going to hold you to that promise.’

‘Why? Because you know you’ll be much quieter than me?’

Tara laughed. ‘You always will be more outspoken than I am. You tell it like it is. Fabulous birth. I loved it.’

She glanced back at Rayne, who was looking at them both as if they were mad.

Tara said, ‘Can Simon and Angus come in now? Then everyone will go away so you three can get to know each other.’

Maeve looked at Rayne, who left it up to her, so Simon and Angus came in.

After congratulations Tara took Angus aside, and Maeve could distantly hear that they were discussing the labour and birth, the blood loss, which had been a little more than usual but had settled now, and she saw Simon pump Rayne’s hand.

‘You look ten years younger, Simon.’ Maeve teased him, as he leaned in to kiss her.

‘I gave them to Rayne. You, sister, dear, are a worry that thankfully is not mine any more.’ He slapped Rayne on the back. ‘Welcome to parenthood, Rayne. It’s never going to be the same again.’

Rayne still looked in shock. For a tough guy that was pretty funny. ‘I get that premonition.’

‘You look pale,’ Simon said.

‘I feel pale.’ Rayne glanced across at the new baby, a baby with his own huge dark eyes and maybe it was his mouth.

Maeve remembered a new mother telling her once that when her baby had been first born she could see all the familial likenesses but after a couple of hours she’d only been able to see her baby as whole. Maeve tried to imprint the separate features before that happened. She could see his father’s stamp as plainly as if there was a big arrow pointing to it. The brows and nose were from her side.

Rayne shook his head and smiled at her and she soaked up like a hungry sponge the amazed awe he was exuding in bucketloads. She must look a mess but for once she didn’t care.

Maeve relaxed back in the bed, letting the euphoria wash over her. She’d always loved watching the way new mums seemed to have this sudden surge of energy, and now she was feeling it herself. She did feel that if she needed to, she could pick up her baby and run and save them both. Probably needed a few more clothes on for that, though, or she’d be scaring people.

She’d discarded the sarong hours ago. Clothes had seemed too much of an annoying distraction in the maelstrom of labour. Her baby wriggled and began to suck his fingers on her chest. His head lay between her breasts with his cheek over her heart, and she smiled mistily down at him. Next he would dribble on his fingers then he would start to poke and rub her with his wet hands as his instincts began to take over.

Yep, he was doing that now, she was careful not to distract him as his little head lifted and he glanced around.

Simon and Angus left and she barely noticed as she saw her baby look and sniff for the dark areolas and the nipple he would find a way to arrive at.

‘Watch him,’ she whispered to Rayne, who leaned closer. ‘He’ll bob his head and wriggle and find his own way to where he needs to go.’

The baby’s hands were kneading the softness of her breast under his tiny fingers, and his pink knees had drawn up under his belly as if he was going to crawl. ‘Can’t you just move him there?’ Rayne said quietly.

‘I could, but he needs to do a sequence. He needs to learn to poke out his tongue before he attaches, and he’ll get there under his own steam at just the right moment.’

‘He’s only half an hour old.’

‘That’s why a baby stays skin to skin on his mother’s chest for that first hour. Shouldn’t get nursed by anyone else or have needles or get weighed or anything. It gives them the chance to do all this and the breastfeeding rates go through the roof if the baby attaches by himself. You watch.’

Baby was bobbing his head up and down like a little jack-in-the-box, and Maeve saw him narrow his gaze on the left nipple and lean towards it. Tiny jerking movements, and shoulder leans, and hand scrunching, and slowly his body changed angle, his neck stretched, and incredibly he was almost there. Another wriggle and head bob and stretch, a series of little tongue peeps as he began to edge closer.

‘Come on, little guy,’ his father whispered, and she had a sudden vision of Rayne on the sideline of a tiny tots soccer game, being the dad yelling, ‘Go, son!’

‘Do you like Connor as his name?’

Rayne looked at her. Grinned. ‘Spelt with two ns.’

‘Lord, yes. As much as I like the Irish version of Conor, this child will not go through life having to spell his name, like I did.’

‘Or have people say “Rain, as in wet?”‘

‘I was teasing.’

‘Beautifully.’ He leaned across and kissed her and in that moment her world was complete. ‘I think he looks very much like a Connor.’

‘You can choose the second name.’ She saw his face shutter. Felt the withdrawal.

‘I didn’t do enough to warrant that privilege.’

She felt the slap of reality right when she didn’t want to. Acknowledged he was feeling inadequate, and maybe even vulnerable at the moment but, hey, she was the one with no clothes and had exposed herself to the world. She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Then try harder.’

She searched in her mind for a way to make him see that unless he wanted to, they would never lose him. ‘Besides, he’s going to cost you a fortune.’

He grinned and she saw the tension fall from his shoulders. Saw his look at her and the comprehension of how adroitly she’d manoeuvred him. Given him something he really could do, regardless of his parenting skills. His smile had a touch of the old bad-boy Rayne who’d been missing for the last few hours. ‘In that case, how about the middle name of Sunshine?’

She knew he was kidding. She hoped he was kidding. ‘Is that Sunshine from Rayne?’

Just then Connor found the nipple, poked out his tongue, opened his mouth wide and swooped. On! And didn’t let go. Maeve gasped and smiled. ‘That feels really weird.’

Rayne sat back in wonder. Tara leaned in from passing by and nodded. ‘Good work, young man.’

‘Connor.’

‘Nice name. Welcome, Connor.’ And she smiled at them both.

‘Connor Sunshine.’

‘Really?’ She grinned at Maeve, who glared briefly at Rayne before looking back at her son. ‘Awesome.’ Then Tara had a brief feel of Maeve’s belly, to check her uterus was contracting, gave it a little rub, then went back to sorting the room and writing the notes.

‘You should’ve seen your face.’

But Maeve had moved on. Was gazing down at her son, whose jaw was working peacefully, his hands each side of his mouth, fingers digging into her breast every now and then. And all the while his big dark eyes stared up into her face. A swell of love came out of nowhere. Like a rush of heat. Her baby. She would protect this tiny scrap of humanity with her last breath.

‘He’s incredible,’ she whispered, and all joking disappeared as they both watched him.

The next fifteen minutes were very peaceful. They didn’t talk much, mostly just stared, bemused at the new person who had entered their lives and would change them as people for ever.

Until Maeve felt the first wave of dizziness and realised the wetness beneath her was spreading and she was beginning to feel faint.

Rayne watched the downy jaw go up and down on Maeve’s breast and marvelled at the dark eyes watching his mother. He could feel his heart thawing and it wasn’t comfortable. Maeve had had his baby.

He thought about the last twenty-four hours. Driving to Lyrebird Lake, not knowing if she would see him. Or knowing if that powerful current between them from the night so long ago had been real or instigated by the events that he’d known would follow.

Then seeing her this morning, pregnant, catching her as she’d fallen, daring to calculate on the slightest chance it could possibly be his child when Maeve should never have conceived. His fierce exultation that had drowned out his shock.

The swell of emotion was almost a physical pain in his chest as he went over the last tumultuous few hours of labour and finally the birth. Now here he was. A father with his son. A helpless newborn with him as a father. At least Connor had a father.

‘Take him, Rayne.’

‘He’s still drinking.’ Rayne was glued to the spectacle but something in her voice arrested him.

‘Started bleeding,’ she said faintly. ‘Get Tara.’ Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted like she had when he’d first seen her, only this time he caught his son.

Rayne’s heart rate doubled. ‘Tara!’ Hell. He scooped Connor off his mother’s chest as Maeve’s arms fell slack, wrapped him in the bunny rug that had covered them both under the big blanket and hugged him to his chest as he leaned over Maeve.

Connor bellowed his displeasure at being lifted off his mother and automatically he patted his bottom through the rug.

Tara scooted back to the bed from her little writing table in the corner, lifted the sheet and sucked in a breath at the spreading stain on the sheets that just then flowed down the sides of the bed. ‘Hit that red button over there for help and grab the IV trolley. We’ll need to insert cannulas.’ He saw her slide her hand over Maeve’s soft belly, cup the top of her uterus through the abdominal wall and begin to rub strongly in a circular motion as he forced himself to turn away and do what needed to be done.

Once he’d pushed the emergency bell, he strode into the treatment room he’d cased earlier and grabbed the IV trolley and pushed it back towards the bed, not as fast as he’d have liked because it was awkward with his son tucked like a little football against his chest. Connor had stopped crying and when Rayne glanced down at him his dark eyes were wide and staring.

Put the cannulas in. That he could do. He glanced around for somewhere to put Connor. Saw the little crib and tucked him in quickly. Connor started to cry.

‘Sorry, mate.’ He could find and secure veins on tiny infants so he should be able to do it on someone bigger. Someone he couldn’t afford to lose.

‘What size cannulas do you want?’

‘Sixteen gauge. Two.’

Right. Found the size, the tourniquet, the antiseptic. Saw the tubes for blood tests. ‘Which bloods?’

Another midwife hurried in after him and Tara glanced up and spoke to her. ‘Get Angus back here first, then lower the bedhead so she’s tipped down, give her oxygen, then draw me up a repeat ten units of syntocinon. Obs we’ll get when we get a chance.’

Tara hadn’t taken her hand off the uterus and the flow had slowed to a trickle but the loss from just those few minutes of a relaxed uterus had astounded Rayne with its ferocity. At least two litres had pooled in the bed.

She turned to him. ‘Purple times two, one orange and one blue. Coags, full blood count, four units cross-match.’

‘Angus is on his way,’ the other midwife said, as she lowered the bed and slipped the oxygen mask onto Maeve’s white face. ‘Just some oxygen, Maeve.’ The girl spoke loudly and as he withdrew the blood for the tests he realised Maeve might be able to hear.

‘Hang in there, Maeve. Don’t be scared. We’ll get it sorted.’ Incredibly his voice sounded confident and calm. Not how he was feeling on the inside. He wondered if Tara was as calm as she seemed.

Angus hurried in. Took over from Tara down the business end, checking swiftly to see if there was any damage they’d missed, but the sheer volume and speed of the loss indicated a uterus that wasn’t clamping down on those powerful arteries that had sustained the pregnancy. Tara began assembling IV lines and drugs. She gave one bag of plain fluids to him and he connected and secured it. Rayne turned the flow rate to full-bore volume replacement until they could get blood.

An orderly arrived and the nursing supervisor who carried the emergency record started writing down times and drugs as she listened to Tara who spoke as she sorted the emergency kit.

The second midwife was writing Maeve’s name on the blood-test tubes. When she was finished she wrote out a request form and sent the samples on their way. Then she hooked Maeve up to the monitor and they all glanced across at the rapid heartbeats shooting across the screen in frantic blips. Her blood pressure wasn’t too bad yet but he knew birthing women could sustain that until it fell in a sudden plunge. His neck prickled in the first premonition of disaster.

Angus looked up at the second orderly. ‘Bring back two units of O-neg blood. We’ll give those until we can cross-match.’

‘I’m O-neg if you need more.’ Blood. She needed blood, Rayne thought, and wondered how often this happened for them all to be so smooth at the procedures. He glanced at Maeve’s face as she moaned and began to stir with the increase in blood flowing to her brain from the head-down position change.

He wanted to go to her but Tara handed him the second flask loaded with the drugs to contract the uterus. ‘Run it at two hundred and fifty mils an hour,’ she murmured, and he nodded, connected it and set the rate. Then stood back out of the way. The whole scene was surreal. One moment he had been soaking in magic and the next terror had been gripping his throat as Maeve’s life force had been seeping away.

‘Given ergot yet?’ Angus was calm.

‘No. But it’s coming.’ Tara was drawing up more drugs. Rayne’s legs felt weak and he glanced across at Connor roaring in his cot. He picked him up and the little boy immediately settled. He hugged his son to him.

‘You okay?’ Angus looked at him.

No, he wasn’t, but it wasn’t about him. He crossed to sit back in the chair beside Maeve’s head so he could talk to her as she stirred. They didn’t need him staring like a fool and fainting, with his son in his arms. Couldn’t imagine how frightening this would be for her. ‘It’s okay, sweetheart. Just rest. Angus is here.’

Her eyelids flickered and for a brief moment she looked at him before her eyelids fell again. ‘Okay,’ she breathed.

He looked at Angus. ‘Why is she still bleeding?’

‘Might be an extra lobe of placenta she grew that we missed.’ Angus was massaging the uterus through Maeve’s belly like Tara had been doing. ‘Or could just be a lazy uterus. Or could be a tear somewhere. We’ll try the drugs but if it doesn’t settle, because of the amount of loss, we’ll have to take her to Theatre.’

Angus glanced at the nursing supervisor. ‘Call Ben and Andy, clue them in, and have operating staff standing by. We can always send them home.’

Nobody mentioned it was early Boxing Day morning. The supervisor nodded and picked up the phone. ‘And phone Simon,’ Angus said, with a quick glance at Rayne. ‘We’ll need his consent.’

Consent for what? Operating theatres? He could give that consent. No, he couldn’t. He had no legal claim on Maeve or his son. He had nothing except Maeve’s permission to be here. He was no one. Shook himself with contempt. It wasn’t about him.

And what would they do? But he knew. They would do what they needed to do to save her life. And if Maeve could never have children again? He thought of the powerful woman who had majestically navigated the birth process with gusto. Imagined her distress if the chance would never be hers again.

He imagined Maeve dying and reared back from the thought. They would get through it. She had to get through it.

‘She’s started to bleed again,’ Angus said to Tara. ‘Get me the F2 alpha and I’ll inject it into her uterus.’ To the other midwife, he said, ‘Check the catheter isn’t blocked and I’ll compress the uterus with my hands until we can get to the OR.’

The next two hours were the worst in Rayne’s life. Worse than when they’d come for him in Simon’s house and he’d seen Maeve’s distress, worse than when he’d been sentenced to prison, worse than when he’d found out his mother had died.

Maeve went in and for a long time nobody came out. Simon sat beside him in the homey little waiting room that was like no other waiting room he’d ever seen.

It had a big stone water cooler and real glasses to drink from. A kettle and little fridge to put real milk in your tea and a big jar of home-made oatmeal biscuits. And a comfortable lounge that he couldn’t sit on.

He paced. Connor didn’t seem to mind because he slept through it in his bunny rug. Rayne couldn’t put him down. Not because Connor cried but because Rayne couldn’t bear to have empty arms while he waited for Maeve to come through those doors.

‘Do you want me to take Connor?’

‘No!’ He didn’t even think about it. Looked down at his son asleep against his chest. Doing at least something that he knew Maeve would like while he waited. ‘What’s taking them so long?’

‘She’ll go to Recovery when they’ve sorted everything. Then Dad will come through and talk to us. Or maybe Ben or Andy.’

‘Are they good?’

‘Superb.’

‘I feel so useless. I worried about being a good enough father. That’s nothing in the big picture.’

‘It’s not a nothing. But this is bigger. But you’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.’

Rayne heard the thread of doubt in Simon’s voice and stopped. Looked at the man who would become his brother-in-law. Because he would marry Maeve. If she’d have him. He didn’t deserve her. Would never have presumed to think she’d have him. But after this fear of losing her he’d take her faith in him and hold it and be the best dad a man could be. And the best husband.

Surely that would be the start of good enough?

He had a sudden vision of waking up in bed beside Maeve for every morning to come for the rest of his life. How the hell would he get out of bed?

But Simon. He’d forgotten that Maeve was the sister Simon was most protective about. How could he forget that in the circumstances? Because he needed to think of other people in his life now. He wasn’t alone. He had Maeve, and Connor, and apparently a whole family or two. He glanced down at his son again and then at Simon.

He stopped where Simon was sitting. ‘Can you hold him for a sec? My arm’s gone to sleep.’ It hadn’t but he could see Simon needed something to hold as well. Tara was in the operating theatre with Maeve and she couldn’t help him.

He watched his friend’s face soften as he took the sleeping infant. Saw the tension loosen in the rigid shoulders. He missed the weight of Connor but was glad that Simon had him for the moment. Funny how a tiny helpless baby could help both of them to be stronger.

And then the doors opened and Angus came out. He looked at Simon first and then at Rayne.

‘She had a spontaneous tear in her uterus. Probably a weakness in the muscle she was born with. It took a while to find it and she lost a lot of blood. But she’s stable now.’

Rayne felt his body sag. Was actually glad that Simon held Connor.

‘No more normal births for her. And a Caesarean in a bigger centre next time in case it does it again.’

So they had saved her uterus. Not bad for a tiny country hospital. ‘So more blood transfusions?’

‘And fresh frozen plasma and cryo. They’ll need some of your blood over at the blood bank because we’ve used nearly all of theirs.’

It was the least he could do.

‘Do we need to ship her out to a bigger hospital?’ Simon had stood and his father was smiling at him with his nephew in his arms.

‘I don’t think so. And I would if I thought she needed to go. Would have spirited her there half an hour ago if I could have, but the crisis is past.’ He grinned at Simon, who was swaying with the baby. ‘Can’t you men put that baby down?’

Rayne glanced at his friend. The relief was soaking in slowly. ‘We’re sharing the comfort. So she’ll be fine?’

‘She’ll have to spend a few more days in hospital than she expected but she’ll be spoiled rotten in Maternity.’

Rayne thought of going back to the manse without Maeve and Connor. ‘Can I stay there, too? In the room with her and Connor? Help her with the baby?’

Angus raised his brows. ‘Can’t see any reason why not. Might mean that Tara will hand her over because she’s not budging and I think she’s nearly out on her feet.’ He glanced at his son with a tired smile. ‘Tara did a great job, Simon.’

So many amazing people here. So many he had to thank. Rayne stepped up to Angus and shook his hand. How could he ever repay them? ‘Thank you. Thank the other guys.’

‘We’ll call in a favour if we need it.’ Angus smiled.

Rayne looked at him. Saw a man who would be ruthless if he needed something for his little country hospital, and understood that. Smiled at it. Got the idea that resources could be hard to come by here when life threw a curve ball but those who had chosen to live here had saved his Maeve. They could have him any time they wanted.

He saw that he’d been accepted and was therefore fair game. He could deal with that. Thought for the first time about where Maeve might want to live and that, for the moment, if it was here he could cope with that.

Ten minutes later Simon took Tara home and Rayne carried Connor back to the room that would be Maeve’s. The night midwife, Misty, took him through to the nursery and they finally got around to weighing Connor and giving him his needles, then she ran her hands all over him, checking that everything was fine.

She listened to his heart and handed the stethoscope to Rayne with a smile. ‘Tara said you were a paed.’

Rayne listened. His son’s heart sounded perfect. No valve murmurs. No clicks. He ran his own hands over him as if he were a baby he had been asked to check. But this wasn’t a baby of some other lucky couple. This was his son. His hands stilled. This child depended on him for all the things his own father hadn’t given him and he would deliver.

Misty handed him clothes and he looked at the tiny singlet. Thought of Maeve.

‘Maeve’s missing this. Wish she was here to share it.’

‘Have you got your phone?’

He looked at her blankly. It wasn’t like he could ring her. It must have shown on is face.

Misty laughed. ‘You are tired. I can take photos of you dressing Connor and you can show her later.’

He shook his head. He should have thought of that. Handed her the phone in his pocket and Misty started snapping.

Rayne glanced at the sink as he lifted the singlet to stretch it widely over Connor’s head. ‘So when do we bath him?’

Misty shook her head. ‘Not for twenty-four hours. He still smells like Mum and it helps him bond and feel secure and remember what to do when he goes for his next feed.’

Rayne vaguely remembered that from something Maeve had said, along with the skin to skin with Mum in the first hour.

Connor stared sleepily up at him as he dressed him. ‘And what if he gets hungry before Maeve comes back?’

‘He’ll be fine. Tara said he fed well at birth. That’s great. He could sleep up to twelve hours before he wakes up enough to feed again this first day. It’s made such a difference letting them have that one long sleep after birth. Breastfed babies feed at least six to ten times a day and he’ll catch up later.’

‘I should know this stuff.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve been out of it for nearly a year and in the States the doctors don’t really discuss breastfeeding issues.’

She laughed. ‘Everyone does everything here.’

He captured and pulled Connor’s long fingers gently through the sleeve of the sleeping gown. All the experience came back as he turned the little boy over onto his front and tied the cords of his nightgown. Made him feel not so useless. He could do this for Maeve. He folded the gown back carefully so it wouldn’t get damp if he wet his nappy. ‘Don’t you use disposable nappies here?’

‘Not until after they do their first wee. Those new disposables are too efficient and it’s hard to tell sometimes.’

‘Fair enough.’ He clicked the pin with satisfaction and tugged the secure nappy. Good job.

Misty nodded approvingly. ‘You can even do a cloth and pin nappy without help. Not many dads could do that the first day.’ The phone rang and she handed him a clean bunny rug. ‘Excuse me.’

She poked her head back into the nursery. ‘They’re bringing Maeve back now.’

Rayne felt relief sweep over him as he wrapped Connor and put him snugly back into his little wheeled cot. Tucked him under the sheets so he didn’t feel abandoned. His eyes were shut. Misty had put nappies and wipes and assorted linen under there in case he needed it in the room overnight and Rayne trundled the cot out the door and down the hallway, where two men were pushing a wheeled bed into the room.

His first sight of Maeve made him draw in his breath. She looked like Snow White, icily beautiful, but deeply asleep and as white as the sheets she lay on with her eyes shut. Her black hair made her look even paler and his heart clutched in shock. Unconsciously his hand went down until he was resting it on Connor’s soft hair, as if he needed the touch of his son to stay calm.

She stirred as the bed stopped against the wall of the room. Blinked slowly and then she opened her eyes, focused and saw him. Licked her dry lips. Then softly, barely perceptibly, she murmured, ‘Hi, there, Rayne.’

‘Hi, there, Princess Maeve.’ He pulled the cot up to the side of the bed. ‘Your son is beautiful.’

‘Our son,’ she whispered.

‘I love him already.’ He didn’t know where the words had come from but he realised it was somewhere so deep and definite in him that it resonated with truth and the smile on Maeve’s face as she closed her eyes assured him it was the thing she most wanted to hear.

‘Then I can leave him to you while I sleep.’

‘I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Thank you.’ And she breathed more deeply as she drifted back to sleep.

He watched her chest slowly rise and fall. Glanced at the blood running into a vein in her left arm and mentally thanked the donor who had provided it. Checked the drugs running into a right-arm vein. Watched Misty as she straightened the IV lines, the monitor leads and the automatic blood-pressure machine, set to record every half an hour, until they were all in a position she could glance at every time she came into the room.

Rayne shifted his intended chair slightly so he could see too. Frowned over the fact that Maeve’s heart rate was still elevated, her blood pressure still low. But respirations were normal. And even as she slept just a tinge of colour was returning to her face.

He pushed Connor’s cot quietly towards the big chair beside the bed and sank back into it. Then pulled the cot halfway between the bed and the chair so that either of them could stretch out their arm and could touch their son. Then he settled down to watch Maeve.